With my vial in hand, and my goal within reach, I return to my hut and begin planning my spells, I had 6 pages in total, 3 of which were completely ruined by failed attempts.

  I pull a piece of paper, using the chest as a makeshift desk, along with the vial and fountain pen, time to make a healing spell.

  I copy the symbols from my notes, body, carry, 3 combination variables which hopefully mean a ‘general heal.’

  The fountain pen works wonderfully with the vial, I finish the spell within seconds.

  She normally drinks a lot of blood for healing magic right? must be expensive. I go to the corner of my hut and slice the side of my arm open against a sharp bit of the wall, the blood slides off my body quickly, apparently also affected by my clothes.

  This is the wound I want my spell to heal.

  I rip the paper, drink the vial and place it on my arm. “Morva eris.” I say as strongly as possible, I feel the tingling feeling I normally feel before healing, pins and needles stabbing my body.

  My vision loses focus.

  I vomit, heaps of blood comes out from me where it definitely shouldn’t have, the wound hasn’t healed at all.

  What did I do wrong? The paper only burnt halfway through, I hold it close to my face, I messed a symbol up probably.

  A piercing feeling hits my skull. I fall to the ground.

  …

  “Hey wake up.” I feel someone slapping my face, “you got a nasty wound…” my arm gets lifted and placed onto my chest.

  The wound probably won’t get infected due to my clothes luckily. I open my eyes to see Noah, he seems worried and confused, the stuff I had on top of the chest isn’t there anymore.

  “I have questions.” He says softly, “are you… on our side…?”

  I never told them about my plan of learning their magic, if I did they’d most likely call me a witch or try it for themselves and get hurt, and considering that failed attempt, that I felt like I had almost died, I made the right choice.

  “Bad interrogation tactics… If I wasn’t my answer would be the same, but yeah I’m on your side dickhead.”

  I get a feeling of a spike hitting my brain, “argh.” Leaves my lips while I cradle my head. The pain subsides as quickly as it came.

  “Your nose is bleeding.” He says softly, I wipe my own nose and watch as it dissolves.

  I can’t really tell him, not after what just happened to me, I was planning to show off how blood magic works when I actually knew how to use it, I’m not giving away half baked information that’ll get us killed.

  “Stop asking questions.” I say a bit too harshly, the pain is making me stressed.

  “Or what?”

  I wanna say something like ‘you’ll get people hurt’ but that seems like a genuine threat.

  “Because I’m trying to help, give me time.” We start a sort of staring contest where neither of us wants to accept defeat.

  “Yeah sorry, I’m just paranoid.” He smiles and ruffles my hair, “you wouldn’t do anything, I trust ya.” He looks to me, then to the chest, then back to me, “hope you remember who you are.” He walks out, his entire body clouded in fake relaxation.

  I need more blood, I wonder… I wonder if blood types have anything to do with it? I notice whenever she is writing a spell she chooses a specific vial…

  How do I get other vials though? The food clinic is usually locked up at night…

  I just wait, as usual on most days nothing happens, twice a week she comes to pick someone up to be taken, me usually as the second person.

  I remember the first time I was taken, it was around 4 months in when I was captured, she came by in a carriage and pointed at me, I was so small back then. I was yelling and screaming like everyone else did when they got chosen, she was just laughing.

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  Then brains do what brains do best: adapt, a soothing calmness wafted over me, I tried a different approach, everyone I saw who got taken was always yelling and crying, I decided to do neither, my body completely shut down.

  I looked her in the eyes, I don’t know what I was thinking, most people said her eyes bring out a deep sense of fear, but to me they were just eyes. Her face changed for a second, a small smile appeared on her face and she told me, ‘there’s fighters, then there’s flighters… then there’s you.’

  She took me to her room after a carriage ride, fed me, questioned me and healed me, keeping me clean, I felt weird, I wondered if this is what she does to everyone before she experiments on them.

  When she wasn’t looking I grabbed one of the mugs from the bedside table and slammed it into her, she stood still for a second as the tea dripped from her hair, then she just turned around and hugged me.

  I didn’t get experimented on, I got sent back, and people were so happy, they said it was a miracle I was spared without a deformity, people laughed and cheered.

  The next week I was taken again, I was less scared, I knew what to expect. I had full confidence I could repeat the same events.

  And to my luck, I was right, she was strange, she usually tried to scare me, find out how I tick, but I knew if I just kept surprising her, I’d be safe.

  I came back, the town said it was a miracle, they cheered and laughed.

  The next week, I was taken again, same old thing happened, I came back, the people said it was a miracle and cheered.

  The next week I was taken, I came back, the people said it was a miracle.

  The next week I was taken, I came back, the people said I was lucky.

  The next week, I came back, they gave me a pat on the back.

  The next week, I came back, they smiled at me.

  The next week I came back, they watched as I tracked back into my hut, to sit in silence.

  I wondered how a group of people could get so bored of a kid surviving what nobody else does, every week they see someone get taken, they most likely die, then they see me get taken, and I always live.

  I’m the target for all the resentment of those deaths, ‘how come he gets to live but the others don’t? That’s not fair!’ While I was just trying to survive like the rest of them.

  You know what I think? I think I’m doing a great service for always taking the second spot of who gets taken, before I started getting chosen it was two people a week who didn’t come back, now it’s one.

  You’re welcome.

  I just stew in my own thoughts until night falls, the fireflies come out in droves from the swamp, there’s not much sound coming from my open door besides the flickering of bugs.

  I open the chest and luckily Noah didn’t take anything, I copy that implosion spell she taught me, I’m hoping if I don’t put a specific target it’ll just implode whatever I put the paper on.

  That makes sense right? I write 4 implosion spells. Two without the carry variable because I’m unsure if I need that if I don’t have a target. I also removed the 10% damage variable, because I assume a door is stronger than a windpipe.

  I step outside holding the paper, rain sprinkles down so I hide the ripped pieces of paper in my pocket. I put the rest of the blood vial firmly in my hand, there’s not much left.

  Nobody is near the food clinic as I approach, it’s clear that everyone is asleep from the long day of plotting the war of ants versus ant eaters.

  Okay, I reach the door and it’s locked like always, I place the paper on it and right as I am about to say the words, I think.

  There’s no target on this paper, so what’s stopping the paper from targeting me instead of the door? I’m touching it just as much as the door is.

  Nothing is stopping it. I decide to reach up and place the piece of paper in the top crack, having it lay flat and cozy… this won’t just try to implode the whole house right?

  I drink half of the remaining quarter of blood I have left from the vial.

  It’ll be fine, it’ll be fine. I hold my hand just barely on the paper, not quite touching, sort of like I’m handling a magic ball.

  “Morva eris.” The door creaks softly for a second and disappears with a ‘woom’ sound, a small ball lands on the floor, the entire door was compressed into an 8-inch sphere.

  I try to pick it up, it's way too heavy and I can’t get a decent grip, ah who cares, it’s fine.

  I walk in, all the candles are out which makes things difficult. I breathe heavily, yet again I feel lightheaded.

  A sharp pain shoots through my brain, I fall to the floor, an ice pick is being stabbed repeatedly into the top right of my head.

  I steady myself on my hands and knees, I cough up blood yet again, God damn it…

  I wonder if there’s a limit to how much the body can take with magic, is a healing spell an advanced magic? Probably, this didn’t seem like a joke of a spell either. Crushing a windpipe isn’t nearly as extreme as crushing a door into a small ball.

  I get up, they store the vials in the back area, there’s a door which leads to it that was luckily unlocked.

  I open it up and walk in, it contains shelves and shelves of vials, all full of blood.

  Now, there’s a likely chance people will know someone broke in with the door missing and all, but the only person who could genuinely suspect me is Noah, who saw my notes.

  I am doubtful he will try to get me in trouble, I’m counting on that. How’s a little blood magic going to get in the way of 5 years of friendship? I grab around 6 different vials of blood, all varying in blood types.

  And I walk out the door, this was incredibly easy, it’s not like I suspected much resistance, but still.

  I walk to my hut and realise storing the vials in my chest might not be the best place for them.

  The only person TO suspect in this situation is me, I’m the most disliked in the town, even without the information Noah has I’ll still be a suspect.

  I put the vials behind the chest, dug under the mud, like treasure.

  I also rip up all the old research paper I had, only showing the blank pages left. I stuff the research paper in the mud as well.

  All done, I’ll be fine.

  I probably won’t be. But I’ll be fine. I always am.